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Billy: sigh*
???: Hey, Billy!  What's wrong?
Billy: I'm trying to write an epic adventure but I have no ideas.
???: Hahaha.  Well, Billy, it just so happens that there are plenty of ideas floating around.
Billy: Really?
???: Yes.

That's right, kids (and adults).  You can help Billy (i.e. myself) come up with the hottest new story that will be told for ages (trolled and revised, as well).  All you have to do is post three characters, a conflict, and a setting.  I will pick the best combination of those three and write a story based on that.  (This way, if the story is bad, I can blame the audience)  I am not responsible for use of copyright, trademark, and explicit content provided by any third-party.  Bad posts, as defined by the topic initiator, may be subject to, but are not limited to, revision, deletion, reporting, and spamming.  Thank you and happy holidays!

My friend was bored in his religion class and typed this.  Read it.

   Chaminade was a drone created by the sponges to open windows when it was too chilly so that the

cookies can bake at their own pace.  However, Chaminade secretly invented a salad dressing that would

change the bakery forever.  Fighting his way to the stars, Chaminade drank champagne in order to fuel his

bloodlust for French onion soup.  The Society of Mary Enthusiasts could not tolerate this insolence and

created a loan so large that he could not pay it off within 4 years.  Fortunately, the galactic vegetarian took

a part time job at a gas station long enough to make 120 payments, the equivalent for a pardon.  He snipped

coupons off of soda cans and traded them in for a spaceship which would replace the arm he lost in the

war.  Laser beams fascinated that religious nut.  The cookies were done and found it time to offer themselves

to the almighty crows.  Meanwhile, the Society of Mary Enthusiasts joined forces with the French onion soup

to create a television set which would hypnotize poor Chaminade into becoming a mainstream consumer at

Walgreens.  The lettuce was not fresh and so the dressing was in vain.  That foolish robot forgot to patent

his creation and so the dog ate it.  Chaminade had to travel back in time with the help of his creators, the

sponges, to patent the dressing so that the lettuce could be eaten.  The French onion soup found his

spaceship and stole all of the laser pointers onboard.  Staring at the blackboard with bluegrass in his mouth,

Chaminade wrote "hole" on the wall with a green crayon and traveled back 1 year into the past.  It was to his

dismay that he discovered the dark truth: he had created the sponges.  The drone developed feelings and

exploded into bite-sized pieces.  One of those pieces patented the dressing while the other met the love of

his life, Brandy.  Eventually, all of the shards of metal morphed back into one being like in

Terminator.  Chaminade was reborn 1 year early.  He was going to celebrate his birthday later.  He kissed

Brandy goodbye and clicked his heels while biting his tongue to return home.  With the laser pointers gone,

Chaminade became more ticked off than a clock and knocked over his spaceship with the power of baking

soda in his guts.  The French onion soup was there, ready to blind Chaminade just enough so that he would

have to buy a television in order to see himself at night.  The attack was thwarted as the crows took the

brunt of the attack.  The crows exploded and spewed candy corn all over the French onion soup, thereby

destroying it.  Chaminade couldn't punch the sun, anymore.  Without his spaceship, Chaminade had to face

off against the destructive force known as the Society of Mary Enthusiasts.


   To be continued...


The French onion soup was destroyed without Chaminade's bloodlust, so the champagne expired without a

cause and was properly buried in the vintage cemetery.  The Society of Mary Enthusiasts, without the 2nd

course dish from four star restaurants, decided it was time to close windows so that future cookies would

freeze.  From this, they could force Chaminade to rescue the tasty dough and thus be deactivated by means

of faulty programming.  The crows overheard this plan and flew to Mississippi in order to request

backup.  Meanwhile, Chaminade sat in a chair playing Humpty Dumpty Extreme on the game console he stole

from Toys R Us.  The evil force had reached thirty houses before our beloved robot noticed that his room was

surprisingly cooler.  He rushed into each room of "his" house in order to open the windows, only to look out

and see that the entire neighborhood was transforming into igloos.  The Society of Mary Enthusiasts watched

him work his magic, waiting for him to enter the house that had a built in wallpaper that sings the logical

errors of anything that enters.  As Chaminade was about to enter that specific building, his fate was going to

be sealed.  Fortunately, the crows returned... with Space Straws.  The space straws sucked up the Society

of Mary Enthusiasts and turned them into quince jelly.  The crows enjoyed this on their bread as they

sang "Stairway to Heaven".  Chaminade was free from his spell and returned to where his true home was...

into the sea.  Since he was a drone, after all, he short circuited, died, and killed all of the fish.


      THE END.